Incapable of Reform
by mud-toed-sneaker
Summary: A few years in The Crazy House for Boys does things to people. May appear to be a oneshot, it was written to be a oneshot, but I liked it too much to stop.


Disclaimer: I do not own Invader Zim. I just write crappy fanfiction that makes Jhonen Vasquez (the creator, Oh how I love him) cry in his sleep.

Dib was back.

After 5 years in The Crazy House for Boys. He was finally back. And the fact that the world had continued to survive without him gave him little comfort. It appeared to have made very little progress. At least in his opinion.

Running a hand through his inky hair he stared up at the gray brick building that was reminiscent of the one he had been discharged from. There was a schedule. Bad food. And even worse people.

He smirked, 'Welcome home.' he told himself grimly.

Dib sighed and shook his head. Hiking up the steps he opened the door and was immediately assaulted with the school spirit propaganda of the educational system.

There were monitors lined up along every hall, showing brainwashed Hi-Skoolers enjoying the perks of public funding. They were laughing, studying, living. Dib ignored them. He had places to be.

His schedule had been sent to his home computer and from there been programmed into the database of his digital planner. His dad had given him the small hand-held device as a welcome home gift. When your father was one of the worlds leading scientist in the field of Scientifical Stuffs you had money to waste.

When he got to his first class he saw that the door was locked. Frowning he looked around the hall. On the wall to his left was a giant video screen with the morning announcements running across it. Apparently the school was serving meat fingers for lunch and they were very excited about it. Dib rolled his eyes.

Looking at the lower corner of the screen he made an annoyed sound, he had come too early. The doors didn't unlock until 5 minutes before the start of classes. He was definitely way too early.

"Shit." he murmured under his breath. He had to wait.

Raising his eyebrows and taking a deep breath, looking around the halls he decided to duck outside and grab a quick smoke before school. It was a bad habit he picked up during his time of confinement. But it was better than most addictions.

Patting down his pockets and finding the pack of cigarettes he kept in his coat pocket he began searching for the lighter as well. Slipping down the hall and out a side entrance he made his way out behind the school.

When he spotted a shadowed corner of the courtyard he headed towards it. Sliding his back up against the rough brick of the outer wall he lowered himself to the ground and opened his battered pack.

Putting the thin white cylinder between his lips he lit up.

Inhaling slowly he closed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts. This was an escape. One of the few luxuries he had left after The Crazy House. The morning was warm and muggy, his cigarette burned wetly.

"Are you going to be a problem for me Dib." A scratchy voice from above him asked.

Dib barely opened his eyes, "I'm supposed to be a reformed member of society, remember?" he reminded the alien who sat above him on the wall.

Zim snorted indelicately and jumped down, landing inches away from where Dib was sitting. The human made no attempt to move, his cigarette dangling awkwardly from the tips of his fingers.

"Humans are incapable of reform." Zim spat, crossing his arms and refusing to move closer.

Dib raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulder, "I don't know. It's pretty official looking to me; I have a certificate and everything. In the eyes of the government I am 100 percent cured of my paranormal obsession." Dib replied easily taking a drag from his cigarette.

Zim growled and swatted the glowing cigarette from Dib's fingers, reaching down he grabbed a handful of Dib's shirt and yanked him to his feet. "Don't play stupid with me Human." Zim hissed, pulling Dib close as he spoke, "There is very little that I do not know about your time spent at that establishment. And one thing I do know is that although their success rate is high, there isn't a place built that you couldn't beat." He released Dib and shoved him out of his personal space.

Dib only reached down and picked up his discarded cigarette, "I don't see why you're upset. The world is yours to destroy. You should take advantage." He advised as he straightened his shirt and inhaled deeply from his cig.

Zim's face grew stoic, "I'm glad to see the shock therapy worked wonders for you." He smirked, though his eyes turned angry.

At the mention of shock therapy Dib's free hand instinctively went to the back of his neck, fingers running over the fading burn scar. He had been a hard nut to crack, but everyone has their limits. His was 600 volts at the base of his skull.

His hand slid back down to his side and he shrugged it off, "You'd be surprised." He commented idly giving an easy grin.

Zim's eyes narrowed, "You disgust me." He snapped crossing his arms across his lean chest.

Dib flicked a bit of ash onto the ground, "Well, lucky for me, I can deal with that." He replied, taking a hit and then tossing the butt of his cigarette at Zim's feet.

The alien stepped back and glared but said nothing.

Dib reached into his pocket and pulled out his planner, tapping a few buttons he frowned at the time and looked back towards the school. Teens were starting to filter in through the front and side doors. Time for class.

"Well, " he said slipping his little tech toy back into his pocket, "Time to learn something new." He finished, giving Zim a sparkling smile and turning on his heels back towards the school.

The alien grit his teeth, "I'm keeping my eye on you Dib!" he threatened, shaking an angry fist.

Dib stopped and turned around for a moment, "Which one?" he asked curiously.

Zim faltered, "Er...the left one!!" he yelled angrily!

Dib nodded his head; "I'll keep that in mind. See you." He called back with a wave.

Zim turned his back on the teen, inexplicably repulsed by what he saw.

"The one person on this entire planet who could have saved them all has been broken down into a nice, neat, normal little package." He scoffed, "They're all idiots."

A communicator suddenly appeared from his Pak, "GIR!" he shouted, "Start up the oven. I want muffins." He ordered, walking the length of the wall and disappearing down the street.


End file.
